


sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool (drowning my thoughts out)

by zeitgeistofnow



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Inspired by young god by Halsey, M/M, Songfic, a tinyyy bit but not true angst bc i know me and ik that i can't write it, because lets be real it's suchhhhh a saphael song, clary's not really in this, simon's still trans but it doesn't really come up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 08:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18807541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeitgeistofnow/pseuds/zeitgeistofnow
Summary: and do you feel like a young god? you know the two of us are just young godssimon's at a party and he really truly does not want to be at a party, doesn't want to entertain these dumb mundanes, doesn't want to have to pretend to drink cheap beer.he misses being alive.





	sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool (drowning my thoughts out)

_if there's a light at the end it's just the sun in your eyes_

_i know you wanna go to heaven but you’re human tonight_

Simon’s at a party with Clary- one that he didn’t really want to be at, but he didn’t have an excuses. It’s not very food-centered, it didn’t start until after dark, it’s not literally a religious meeting like that one time, there’s no Shadowhunters but Clary. Even Raphael didn’t have an complaints. It’s all mundanes, as far as he can see, with the exception of him and Clary and a pair of warlocks wearing glamours in the corner. It’s in someone’s backyard behind a huge, groaning house and there’s a weeping willow overshadowing everything. The willow leaves float in the pool, and there are people everywhere. It smells like mundane blood and Simon thanks g- someone that Raphael made him drink before he left.

He’s holding an almost empty red solo cup to keep up the charade and he talks to a few people- three girls that are very drunk and giggle and tug on his hair and comment on how well he passes until he excuses himself, feeling a bit ill, the party’s host, who’s also drunk and an ass, and some guy that Clary tries to introduce him to, but she met him five minutes ago and he keeps trying to flirt with Simon and he’s very bad at flirting and won’t listen when Simon explains that he has a boyfriend. Simon’s too polite to tell him to fuck off, though, so he just shoots daggers at Clary across the lawn.

After the guy misappropriates Mark Hamill's name for the third time, Simon’s had enough. He’s done with this- with pretending to sip from this beer, which smells cheap anyway, with wincing just a bit whenever someone says _god,_ with pretending.

“Yo, do you know if we can use the pool?” He asks.

The guy looks surprised at the question. “It’s probably a few degrees off freezing, but no one’s going to stop you, man.”

“Cool, thanks.” Simon strips off his t-shirt (a very good shirt, one that magnus got him. It has the coca-cola logo and says _gay love- it’s the real thing_ ) and his shoes and socks. He’s wearing skinny jeans, which he doesn’t want to try to take off, so he doesn’t. Just tosses aside his cup and stretches and jumps into the pool.

The water immediately muffles the voices of everyone above the water and Simon empties his lungs and sinks to the bottom, where it’s quiet. Not having to breath does have its upsides. He leans against the rough concrete sides and closes his eyes. The water makes soft water noises around him, a kind of quiet roaring in his ears.

He misses when he could enjoy these parties. He wishes he still did and he knows Clary doesn’t get why he doesn’t. It’s easier for her because she can still drink and get drunk and her runes just look like cool tattoos. It was always easier for Clary. He can feel his a lump developing in his throat and he swallows.

He doesn’t know how long he stays underwater, but when he opens his eyes Raphael is floating in front of him. He’s in black jeans and a plain black shirt, both of which are sticking to him.

“Oh, hey.” He’s underwater, but he can still hear himself talk. Normally he’d be ecstatic about learning that he can do this, but now he just feels numb.

“Hey, baby.” Raphael sinks to the bottom of the pool, entangling his legs with Simon’s. “Clary called me when you didn’t get back out of the pool. The warlocks are pissed at you and some guy thinks you died. Your tears are staining the pool.”

The blood trickling from his eyes is dispersing into the pool, spiraling and diluting and looking more beautiful that something so awful should.

“Oh.” Simon smiled dryly at Raphael. “I didn’t mean for anyone to get worried, I just-”

“Didn’t want to pretend. Believe me, I know.” Raphael’s smile is just as dry and looking at him, Simon’s melts into something more genuine.

“Thanks for coming to bring me home, Raph.”

Raphael blinks at him. “Home? Baby, we’re not going home, you look like you wanna die.”

Simon snorts. “Like I’m not already dead?”

“I misspoke,” Raphael concedes, and his eyes are bright and he’s _beautiful._

 

Simon shrugs his shirt back on and Raphael coerces the warlocks in the corner to magic their clothes dry- the guy who does Simon is spiteful and leaves his hair dry, so Simon has to wring it out onto the concrete. Raphael shrugs on a leather jacket he’d brought and hands Simon a flannel.

“Grabbed it from your room before I left.”

Simon pulls it on one sleeve at a time and almost gets tangled. “I don’t need it.”

“Not physically,” Raphael agrees.

They leave.

 

The pair almost fly through the city- they blur, racing each other from roof, jumping between brownstones and finally collapsing on a flat roof, a few feet from the fire escape. Simon turns and crosses his arms over the trim, looking out at the city. He can feel Raphael watching him.

The lights from downtown glitter in every color of the rainbow, faint flashes of neon. Closer to where they are, though, it’s just soft gold lights streaming out of windows. People studying late, people partying, people waiting for someone else. Inside their human homes, doing human things, waiting for other humans to come and say hello. They’re all so tremendously alive, running in circles, but at least they’re running.

“Do you ever remember that you’re just dead?” Simon asks. His voice breaks and it’s embarrassing, but Raphael’s seen him do just about everything. He sits up straight before continuing. “That you’re some kind of goddamn parasite?”

Raphael deliberates and Simon glances at him. His head in cocked to the side as he thinks and his hair wavers in the night wind. “No.”

“No,” Simon repeats. He laughs.

“No, Lewis,” Raphael says, moving closer to Simon. “Because we’re not. We’re just young gods.” He sits on Simon’s lap, straddling his hips, and Simon _aches._

“Right.” Simon looks up at him.

Raphael leans closer, catches Simon’s lower lip between his teeth. _“Right,”_ he breathes. Simon leans into him, pressing him against the eave's edge. He rests his hands on Raphael’s waist and the vampire hums against his mouth and Simon feels better, just a bit.

 

_there's a light in the crack that's separating your thighs_

_and if you wanna go to heaven you should fuck me tonight_

**Author's Note:**

> look! another thing!! on the _same day_. this is getting out of hand lol  
> i love this song so much you guys and i love these two.
> 
> comments and kudos make my day!! find me on tumblr @the-stars-say-gay


End file.
